my witness moon

my tempest purity,
my witness moon,
you've devoured me
and my pale armor;

plundering me,
my pastoral monarch,
my wild testimony,
rending my sea.

outside my window, on
this day, the harvest
epoch continues with
plaited rains,

lashing the barn
and drenching the
fields while i roam my
hallways to your chime.

flecked with joy
and crowned with
cascades of laughs,
you came

into my arms from
your vigilant mother,
whose seam was torn
and who was recast
anew.

you had no howl in
you, you never really have,
my astral sun,
my quick night.

i see you down a long,
pathless suspension,
your invasion of me complete
at the dawning of  a winter.

your meaning in my life
written with blood ciphers
and locked in a dark room
built with the bones of
my ancestors.

i'm not ever meant
to know why you entered
my dreams with all
your seraph sighs.

there, as in an echoing
chamber, you are the
plucking strings of a guitar
and lilt of a whispering peasant.

you were conceived on
a day such as this: at the
height of the harvest foist,
with her wet tremble,

when my howling passion
overtook your mother's
quietude and plunged her
into the familiar fire.

i will ever be an annotation
to your days, my vibrant
leaf, my avid voyager.

i will be the scent of the brume
of an extinguished candle;
the primal wildflower
perfume on your fingertips.

my memory lately leaks
from my timid fibers and
drains into the soles
of permanent wounds.

but,

my feet will fall
in the rattling hall
among a thousand and one
malnourished guests

before i know why you
were sent to me,

my lovely increase,
my armed medium,
my witness moon.